


The Will To Live

by AwokenMonster



Series: Getting Into FOB [3]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Depression, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor gore description, Pete's POV, Suicidal Thoughts, happy end, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 01:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13043784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwokenMonster/pseuds/AwokenMonster
Summary: Pete wants to liveBut why?A Peterick fic





	The Will To Live

**Author's Note:**

> Monster: Hi guys! I'm pretty happy with the views I've been getting on the other FOB fics. I finished another one-shot called Wishes In The Dark which I'll post after the proofread but this fic entered my mind after listening to Broken Record by Hollywood Undead again. I felt like it would fit Pete. Enjoy!
> 
> Warning: triggers ahead. Lots of self-loathing and depressed shit but the ending makes up for it.
> 
> The line "Somebody save me or end me, I haven't yet made up my mind" comes from a song called Watch Me Burn by Nothing More

Pete’s POV

 

I spread my arms.

The wind caressed my cheek and took the air I exhaled with it. It washed away like it was nothing, like I wasn’t breathing. Like it didn’t matter. No one would notice if I’d been breathing or not cause the wind took it. I liked it. Though no one would notice that, what I was doing was an entirely different story.

People could see me standing there, on top of the wall. Arms spread, feet stepping after one another slowly, not enough room to keep them next to each other. The height made me dizzy. It made my head spin round and round until my body would sway along to the rhythm of the dizziness. It threatened to push me off that wall.

Drop to my demise.

Somebody save me. Or end me.

I hadn’t yet made up my mind.

It made me chuckle darkly. No joy in it but sometimes you could grow sarcastic enough to laugh at your own misery. I know I did. I’d laugh like a maniac at myself. My failure of a life, my failure of a mind. Everything about myself was laughable.

The reason the depressed laugh so much, is because it’s their insanity. They try to convince themselves they’re ok but they’re not. Their faces smile, their minds are standing on top of the wall with me. Remember that.

I could sob over it for days. I could crawl into a ball after laughing at my own misery, cry about it and rock myself, wanting to go back into time and hug my mother, warn her to never let me stray off the happy path I used to be on.

Don’t let happy Pete die, mom.

I let out a sigh, smile tugging at my lips when it disappeared into the air again. Anything would disappear in the wind. Anything. As I realized that, the wind picked up and swept through everything, almost knocking me off the wall. It was loud, it was aggressive.

I wanted to squat down and hold the wall. I didn’t want to fall off the edge.

Wait.

I didn’t want to fall.

The realization opened my eyes wide, brain working overtime. _I didn’t want to fall?_

I didn’t.

I didn’t want to die.

I smiled at the idea, eyes watering. I had a will to live, even if it only became obvious when I was on the brink of dying. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to feel alive. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t dead on the inside. Having a will to live, felt amazing.

But why?

Why did I want to live?

I didn’t get it. It confused me. I had every reason to welcome death with open arms. I would’ve happily jumped off the wall with a backflip and crush my bones on the surface below, hundreds and hundreds of feet below.

No, that’s not right. I wouldn’t have.

Jumping off a wall was a selfish way to die because whoever stood down there, would be traumatized for life after witnessing your body splatter into a pile of organs, blood and splintered bones.

Just like jumping in front of a car or train. Whoever driving it, would be scarred for life. Best way to die, was quietly. Overdose on pills in your sleep so people would find you sound asleep without a heartbeat. It would look peaceful. No blood spilled.

Maybe that was why I didn’t want to fall?

Maybe I had no will to live after all?

No, I did have one. I knew I had a will to live but I had to figure out what made me want to live. I didn’t understand.

There’s always the cliché of “friends and family will miss you”. No. Everyone would be sad over my death, sure. Tons of people would show up on my funeral, cry for me but after a while, they’d forget. Memories of me would fade in their mind and they’d only remember me once a photograph passed by. Or a song I wrote for that matter.

I couldn’t imagine a single thing that would hold me back if I were to jump into the abyss. Then why did I want to live?

My music?

No, it’s not my music.

I wrote the lyrics but Fall Out Boy wouldn’t miss me that much. After all, they always say the bass player is the most useless member of the band, right?

You can’t miss the singer. The drummer’s irreplaceable as well. Songs suck without a guitarist. Have you heard songs without a bassist? You have but you probably didn’t even realize he was missing.

My point exactly.

I didn’t feel like my lyrics were reason enough to stay alive. It wasn’t like I had a message to convey to the world that would change lives. Maybe I could mean something to one or two people going through the same but then again, why should I be a role model if I can’t even take care of myself?

No reason to live there either.

Maybe it wasn’t like my family and friends would miss me but maybe, just maybe I would miss someone?

Could it be that I wanted to remain alive for people? Was it even possible to miss someone in death? Maybe the doubt of whether I’d miss certain people when dead, was holding me back.

Maybe I didn’t want to miss anyone.

But who?

I broke my head over it. There wasn’t a single person in the world I’d miss until the end of times, even in death. There wasn’t as far as I could imagine.

The wind stilled.

The wall disappeared.

It was total darkness and I was all by myself.

No, I wasn’t. I could feel a heat against my cheek and in the back of my head. A soft stroke through my hair. God, it felt amazing.

Fingers running through it over my scalp and down to my neck. I hummed to the sensation, earning a joyful chuckle. The sound launched me back to reality.

I wasn’t standing on a wall.

I wasn’t thinking about jumping hundreds of feet down.

I wasn’t welcoming death.

I was here. In real life. I was lying on a couch in my home. Our home. And I had my head in his lap. Patrick’s lap.

I opened my eyes, blinking to adjust to the sudden bright light. Patrick’s soft smile greeted me. “Good morning to you too, bedhead.”

And it all made sense.

He was my will to live.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment, they're our heavy fuel!
> 
> "minor gore" because of the "pile of organs, blood and splintered bones" obviously.


End file.
